


Triple-Letter Score

by convolutedConcussion



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Scrabble as Foreplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 02:26:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7415926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/convolutedConcussion/pseuds/convolutedConcussion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Dolls says it, he’s been back for six months and they’re playing Scrabble.  He’s just got a triple-letter score on OXEN, and she grumbles in dismay as she records his score, but as she takes a sip of her whiskey she’s looking at him with bright eyes and a soft smile and he can’t help himself.</p>
<p>Wynonna's eyes go wide, then down to her tiles.  “Okay, am I drunk or did you really just say that?” she asks, lips curling slyly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Triple-Letter Score

The first time Dolls says it, he’s been back for six months and they’re playing Scrabble.  He’s just got a triple-letter score on OXEN, and she grumbles in dismay as she records his score, but as she takes a sip of her whiskey she’s looking at him with bright eyes and a soft smile and he can’t help himself.

Wynonna's eyes go wide, then down to her tiles.  “Okay, am I drunk or did you really just say that?” she asks, lips curling slyly.

“I love you,” he repeats, firmer than before.  He does, he realizes quickly.  He loves the rise and fall of her voice when she speaks and how her eyebrows dance, he loves the gentle way her eyes shift when something good happens and how quietly brilliant she is—different than her sister, but smart in a way that she barely even recognizes.  He loves the way she holds something close, a small bit of information that shouldn’t mean so much but punches the air right out of him when she lets it out.  Every part of her, all her hard edges, the coiled anger and bitterness, her resolve—he _loves her_.

It should be terrifying.  It should be _hard_ and big and scary, but now that it’s been said it feels suddenly like the easiest, most natural thing in the world.  So many things are alarmingly easy with her, maybe he shouldn’t even be surprised.

“Well, you have terrible taste,” she mumbles, laying down O-P-E after his N.  “But.  For the record, I love you too.”

He uses her O to make ORANGE, laughs at her distraught moan.

“Oh, fuck me,” she sighs.

“Later,” he assures her.

She makes ORANGES and SAP and flashes a quick, cocky grin.

Narrowly, he wins that game, and she mumbles that they should have gone for strip poker.  “Please,” he snorts, “Like you’ve got a poker face.”

From where she’d been sitting on the floor, she stands and walks around the coffee table to drop in his lap, knees on either side of him.  Their lips meet in a slow, hot slide as she cups his jaw tenderly.  When she pulls back, she whispers, “Say it again.”

“I love you,” he answers, murmurs it over and over again as she drags him in for harder, quicker kisses.  Her hips rock over his as she bites his lip, just this side of too hard.  One hand still on his jaw, the other slides down, brushing over him through his jeans before undoing them.  He gasps when she grips his dick, stroking him slowly until he’s aching and rolling up into her grasp.  She smiles, sharp, against his lips, as she takes her hand away and stands. 

When he moves to follow her, she pushes his shoulder down, mumbling, “No, I want you here.”  He sits back, eyes locked on hers.  Smirking, she looks down and drags her teeth over her lower lip before yanking her top over her head.  “Take off your shirt,” she orders.  He obeys, tossing it to the side.  Her fingers tease just under her bra strap before dropping to the button of her jeans and making a show of popping the button and pulling down the zipper tooth by tooth.  She bends to push them down her legs, hair brushing his knee as she goes.

Her eyes are heavy-lidded on his when she reaches back, lazily unhooking her bra and letting it slide down her arms and fall to the floor.  She palms her breasts and lets out a low noise, hooks her thumbs into her panties to shove them off.  Straddling him again, she dips her fingers into his pocket and yanks out his wallet.  She finds the condom she’s looking for and her smile grows wicked as she huffs a low laugh.  As she deftly rolls it on, he drags her in for another heated kiss, relishing her groan when his hands roam her body. 

His lips work down her neck and she arches to give him better access, fingers slipping between her legs to slide over her.  Her hips rock with his slow motions and he catches a nipple between his teeth to hear her hot gasp.  She uses one hand on his chin to draw his mouth back against hers, the other guiding his cock into her wet heat.  They moan into each other as she presses down, breathing heavily.

Eyes closed, she drops her forehead against his as she rides him languidly, slow roll of her hips agonizing in a way he never wants to stop.  He bucks up into her and her hand comes down hard on his shoulder, drawing a low whine out of her as she grinds down.  His fingers work back down over her clit, prompting her to move faster as he rocks up.  Their soft noises grow louder, bodies moving faster, and he flips them so that she’s on her back, legs wrapping around his hips as he drives into her.

He feels the moment her climax hits her, clenching hard around him, bringing him closer to the edge as her fingers dig into his back and she cries out.  Face buried in her throat, he moans loudly when he cums, hips moving jerkily.  He doesn’t stop until he’s so sensitive it hurts.

Suspended over her, he swipes his thumb over her cheek.

Releasing her grasp on him, she beams and cranes up to press a sweet, gentle kiss to his lips.  She reaches up and twines their fingers together, gaze soft and affectionate, and he pulls her up as he gets to his feet.

“Let’s go to bed,” he whispers.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this](http://johnisntevendead.tumblr.com/post/146872266771/prompt-from-ages-ago-okay-am-i-drunk-or-did-you) anon, in which I went in the most cliche direction and then it got away from me.
> 
> Swing by my [Tumblr](http://johnisntevendead.tumblr.com) and feel free to send prompts, headcanons, screaming... anything.


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